


A Guide to the Things We Are and the Thing We're Not

by natcat5



Series: Dark Month 2015 [11]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Faerie AU, Gen, Half-Fae kids, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5001550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natcat5/pseuds/natcat5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And here we are." Percy says, "You apparently being the chosen welcome committee. With the glorious task of telling me how much more my life is going to suck now, and whether I can expect to spontaneously grow a pair of sparkly wings.” </p><p>Annabeth’s lips are tightly pressed together, and Percy honestly can’t tell whether she’s holding back laughter or a sharp retort. </p><p>“I know you probably said the wing bit as a joke,” she says, and yeah, she looks like she might be holding back a smirk, “But that is actually a real possibility.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Guide to the Things We Are and the Thing We're Not

WiseGirl808080 isn’t exactly what he expected.

It’s not that her username on the Forum had made Percy assume she’d either be an old lady or bookish looking, but…okay yeah that’s exactly what her username had made him assume.

But WiseGirl808080, Annabeth, looks to be the same age as him. And looks like she’d be more at home on a volleyball court than in a library. Though the piercing grey eyes do kind of remind him of a librarian’s, in a weird way.

Her blonde hair has a shine to it that matches her eyes. At the roots it looks golden, but further down towards the ends it turns a more peculiar silvery colour, that reflects and glitters in the light.

“Stop staring,” she says, eyes narrowed, “It’s not like yours is much better.”

He’s aware. It’s been about a week since his hair spontaneously decided that black just wasn’t in this year, and that it would much rather turn a startling shade of sea-green, close to blue. He still’s caught off guard when he passes a reflective surface and is confronted with…the teal of it. It’s so teal.  

“I wasn’t staring,” he lies defensively, “And trust me, I know who got the better end of the deal here. Yours can still pass for normal.”

“If by ‘normal’ you mean ‘prematurely grey’,” she objects with a scowl, “And you _were_ staring, but I understand; I’m used to it.” She tosses her ponytail over shoulder, in a show of bluster that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You should know, people will stare at you too. Especially before your glamour abilities come in. And if you develop any other Fae attributes-,”

“Wait, wait, slow down. Time out.” Percy makes a T with his hands, frowning. “Can we like, back up a bit? Start from the beginning? I mean, I think you need to proceed with this ‘Fae’ stuff lecture assuming I know absolutely nothing about anything whatsoever.”

Because he doesn’t know anything, in actuality. This is all very new and she seems to be assuming he’s okay to jump in head first when he’d much rather dip a toe or two in the shallow end. Slowly. Keep his obnoxiously teal head above water for a bit.

She exhales heavily through her nose, folding her arms across her chest and trying very hard to not glare. It doesn’t really work out.

“Alright, fine.” She says levelly. “Let’s back up a bit. Tell me what you know about the Fae, and what you- what you and I are.”

Percy blows out a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. He’s happy that it’s short enough that he can’t see the teal colour unless he looks into a mirror, because just the knowledge that his head looks like a tub of Crayola paint is enough to make him scowl. Right. How did this happen again?

“About a week ago I woke up with my hair…like this,” he says, repeating the story he’s already told, “I though my mom’s dickhead- I thought my stepdad had dyed it in my sleep or something. But he was away on a gamb- on a business trip with some of his friends. It was just me and my mother.”

The only time the shitty apartment felt like anything close to a home. When it was just his mother and him, making blue food, playing music out loud, laughing and not getting yelled at for disturbing someone’s card games.

“My mom does have a blue thing, like, a thing with the colour blue,” he continues, “Though this isn’t really the shade she likes, and also, why would she dye my hair blue? It really-,”

“You’re rambling,” says Annabeth curtly, and Percy glowers at her.

“No, I’m giving context. Don’t be so impatient, you have somewhere else to be? Another half-Fae kid to give an orientation to?” he shoots back sharply.

Annabeth purses her lips and drums her fingers along her arm, but doesn’t say anything else.

“ _Anyways,”_ continues Percy with exaggeration, “I woke up with my hair blue, asked my mom if she knew what had happened, because I definitely didn’t do it to myself, and she got like, this weird look on her face. She just kind of stared at me for awhile, and then said, quote unquote, ‘we need to talk’.”

He pauses, and then sits back in his chair, frowning. She’s right. He is rambling. “Long story short, she told me that my dad had been a Fae Lord, that I was half-Fae, that sometimes it doesn’t really manifest in physical or visible ways so she thought she wouldn’t have to tell me, etcetera.” He waves a hand through the air flippantly, and then leans forward, leaning on the table with a frown.

“She hinted that some of my issues with school might be because of it,” he says, expression a little darker. “Like, ingrained desire for mischief. Hating when teachers lie, or expect you to do something without giving anything in return. Not being able to sit still.”

He lifts his eyes a little, so that he’s looking at Annabeth again.

“She said she knew some people, a social network or support group or whatever,” he says, “And that she’d get in contact with them, and then I could talk with them and learn more than she’d be able to tell me on her own.”

He casts his eyes to the side, expression a little embarrassed “Maybe even meet my dad,” he half-mumbles, before turning back to Annabeth. “And here we are. You apparently being the chosen welcome committee. With the glorious task of telling me how much more my life is going to suck now, and whether I can expect to spontaneously grow a pair of sparkly wings.”

Annabeth’s lips are tightly pressed together, and Percy honestly can’t tell whether she’s holding back laughter or a sharp retort.

“I know you probably said the wing bit as a joke,” she says, and yeah, she looks like she might be holding back a smirk, “But that is actually a real possibility.”

Percy stares at her. “Now _you’re_ the one who’s joking, right? That’s a joke.”

She smiles and shakes her head. Percy decides not to complain about the teal hair anymore. Much.

“Right,” says Annabeath, taking a breath and composing her expression, “That’s not too bad a place to work off of. Your mother was decently informed. I’ll try to keep things succinct and to the point.”

She folds her hands together in front of her, and locks her gaze with his. “The Fae, contemporarily known as faeries, exist. They are not small, overly sparkly, or cute. They are nothing like their Americanized versions, and are closest to the Gaelic interpretations, that placed them as tricksters, often cruel, frequently prone to leading travellers astray.”

She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, the golden and silver colour glittering in the light.

“Nowadays they mostly don’t bother,” she says, “The Fae live in a different world- different dimension, I guess you’d say. But on certain days in our calendar year, their Courts will intersect with Earth. And that’s when you have people getting lost in forests they’ve known their entire lives. People going off a path and never being seen again. They step into the Faerie Court, and if they don’t leave it before the eve ends, they’re whisked away to the other dimension. But that’s all just context,” she waves a hand airily. “For our purposes, what’s important is that while the Fae no longer largely interfere with human affairs, they do sometimes pop down to earth individually. Mostly to mess with people. Because for the millennia they’ve been around, all the Fae seem to enjoy doing in this dimension is messing with people.” Annabeth’s expression is the expression of one who is intimately familiar with being messed with. Percy hopes she’s just had crappy luck, and that it’s not a product of being half-Fae. He really couldn’t handle any other part of him turning teal.

“Sometimes they sleep with humans,” she continues, “Usually it doesn’t bring anything about. Fae genetics are- I don’t know. Magical, not biological. It’s not exactly compatible with human DNA.”

“That seems like a thing that doesn’t actually make sense.” Percy says, bemused, “But my hair turned teal in my sleep, so what do I know?”

Annabeth shoots him a wry look. “There’s a lot of that, being half-Fae. Honestly, the hair’s the easy bit.”

Percy grimaces. He doesn’t much like the sound of that.

“So yeah, sex between Fae and humans, sometimes half-Fae kids happen,” she continues, “Like I said, we’re rare. And a lot of the times, like your mom said, the ‘symptoms’ don’t really show up.” She makes airquotes with her fingers, “The hair thing is common. Permanent too. And hair dye won’t cover it up, at all. Don’t bother trying.”

“Damn,” sighs Percy, rubbing at his hair again.

“Yeah,” agrees Annabeth bitterly, “But like I said, it’s not the worse. Other physical manifestations of Fae heritage can include, like I said, wings. They’re usually pretty thin, they can’t fly or anything, but they have a bad habit of fluttering under emotional stress, and then you have people screaming and asking what’s on your back under your clothes.”

She sounds like she speaks from experience. Percy raises an eyebrow. “Do you-,”

“No,” she says curtly, not waiting for him to finish the question, “But a good friend of mine does. Thalia. She was one of the first kids to use this network. It’s a pretty recent thing.”

She brushes her hair back again. “That’s basically the most extreme physical manifestation you can get. More commonly, half-Fae kids will have skin that shines under certain lights. Maybe it looks a little blue or purple or green at night or at midday. Or starts sparkling like you’ve been dunked in glitter. Which some people love; others, not so much. Your eyes might glow in the dark, but they won’t change colour. Also, don’t test this out, but you might be ‘lighter’.”

She looks at him seriously for a moment, and then points a finger right in his face. “Everyone tries to test it. Don’t. It might not work. Some people kind of have…a natural floating ability. No one can _fly,_ but there are a number of us who can sort of…levitate. Or float gracefully to the ground after falling from a tall height.”

She narrows her eyes. “ _Don’t try and test it out._ Not everyone has it. Kids have broken limbs trying. _Do not try and test it out, Percy._ ”

“Alright! Sheesh, I won’t try,” Percy says, raising his hands defensively. He won’t try from very high, anyways. The tree in the park behind his apartment isn’t that tall to jump down from.

Annabeth looks like she doesn’t believe him, but she just exhales in exasperation and shakes her head.

“Those are the standard physical manifestations,” she finishes, “The non-physical stuff is a little harder to track and make note of, but the general list usually includes dyslexia. Our brains are wired to read and write Ancient Gaelic. Which sounds ridiculous, but I tried it out. It actually is easier to read old Celtic poetry than my English homework.”

Percy’s listening a little more closely now. He has dyslexia as well. The Ancient Gaelic part sounds a little…far-fetched, but. His hair. Is teal. So.

“Additionally, ADHD,” she continues, counting off on her fingers, “The Fae are always moving. That’s why their dances were so dangerous for mortals. People would literally get caught in the Fae court and then dance until they died of exhaustion, or starvation, or dehydration. Usually with a smile on their face, completely oblivious.”

“Delightful,” comments Percy flatly, and Annabeth gives him a look. A _look._ He doesn’t like it, and narrows his eyes at her. Her lips thin out again, and she looks down at the table.

“Before I say anything else, let me mention something quickly,” she says sharply, “A lot of Fae kids, I mean us, the half Fae, grew up with single parents. Because our human parent never met anyone after the Fae who either sired or birthed us. And so, when they- the kids -find out that they may actually have another parent out there somewhere, alive, they get excited. Hope that maybe they’ll get to meet them. Percy,” She takes a deep breath, “It’s a bad idea. Fae are not…they’re not evil, because they have no concept of it. But they dance mortals to death without a thought. They’ve been stealing people and children since the beginning of time, and they don’t see why it’s wrong. Generally, they don’t know their half children exist. If they do, they usually don’t care. And on the off chance that they _do_ care, the only thing they’ll offer you is to be taken, like the lost children who are spirited away, and never see the human realm again.”

Percy doesn’t say anything. He remembers what he mentioned earlier, about the chance to see his father again, and feels a bit attacked. His mother hadn’t said anything about the man being cruel or dancing people to death or whatever. She had said he was kind, but roguish, and that he loved the sea.

He doesn’t say anything to Annabeth. Just raises a shoulder in a half shrug.

Annabeth’s stares at him for a few long seconds, before she turns her face away, mouth pressed tight.

“That’s the general picture,” she says, voice clipped, “The other things your mother mentioned, hating when people lie, and not liking when favors aren’t returned- she’s right. The Fae never lie, even if they don’t always tell the truth, and they never do anything without expecting something back in return. Likewise, they don’t accept free favours or charity. If you help them, they owe you. And vice versa.”

She turns back to him, expression a little more relaxed. “Sometimes some odd things pop up. Occasionally, one of us will develop abilities. Talking to animals is the most common one. Or an affinity for plants, being able to both grow and talk to them. It’s really rare though. I wouldn’t count on it. And we can all weave basic glamours.”

“You said that before,” Percy comments, “Still don’t know what it is.”

“An illusion,” Annabeth explains, “To fool non-Fae. We can all do it. I mean, for someone like me it’s not worth it. But for Thalia, and people with more striking hair colours-,”

She gives Percy a pointed look. He scowls.

“-It’s a useful skill to develop. You can’t change your appearance, but you can change the way people perceive it. Make anyone who looks at you, anyone non-Fae, think your hair is a normal colour. Make them think you’re someone else. It’s easiest for us to weave glamour over ourselves. But some of the older kids can project it; make a door look like a wall, make a Toyota look like a Lamborghini- you get the picture.”

He does. He’s already wondering what he can get away with glamouring in their apartment, for the sole purpose of making Smelly Gabe’s life just a bit more difficult. His mother would be on board as long as it wasn’t anything dangerous, right?

Annabeth blows out a sigh, sitting up in her chair and meeting her eyes to his again.

“And that’s it. It’s not overly complicated, really.” She says, “Honestly, we’re very lucky Percy. I’ve explained this to you, and Thalia explained it to me, but this online network didn’t exist when she was younger. Talking to each other online, these meet and greets. The older kids, they remember being completely on their own. Having no one.”

She looks really sad about it, and Percy feels something uneasy in his own stomach. As much as they’ve been snarking at each other a little bit, he does honestly feel a lot better about the entire situation now that Annabeth’s sat down and spoken to him about it.

“Thanks for coming out here to meet me,” he says, sincerely, “I, uh, I know you could have just done this online. But um, I’m happy to have met you. I mean, to have had this welcome thing in person.”

“It’s no problem, Percy,” Annabeth says firmly, “We- it can be really hard for us. Even if the physical differences aren’t always that much. Just _knowing_ we’re fundamentally different from basically everyone around us…It’s hard. That’s why we stick together. That’s why we have our half-Fae kids support network.”

“It could probably do with a better name though,” Percy comments, and then, at Annabeth’s raised eyebrow, “I mean, ‘half-Fae kids support network’ is kind of a mouthful, don’t you think?”

“Oh?” she says, incredulous, “And you have a better one.”

“Well,” Percy replies, “Something shorter, and less clinical. So not like ‘network’, but like, I don’t know, half-Fae camp or whatever. Camp Half-Fae. Or, hey! I know.”

He leans forward, grinning. “What about Camp Half-Blood?”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so lame lmao I'm so cheesy


End file.
